


i told you i would stay

by chocobos



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:06:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babe’s first day of work goes like this: he shows up right on time -- despite the killer hangover -- and almost walks into three walls on his way to his bosses' office because he has yet to actually have his morning coffee. When he finally gets there, he almost throws himself out of his bosses' fourteenth story window.</p><p>He doesn’t remember a whole lot from last night, but he couldn’t forget those dark eyes if he tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i told you i would stay

**Author's Note:**

> here is the next installment in 'ao3 user punkroe should not take drabble prompts on tumblr because they all end up being well over 2k anyway.' 
> 
> this was written for the prompt "banged someone last night and turns out they're interviewing me for my new job" only i took it one step further and made it so gene was already babe's new boss.
> 
> one day i will get around to writing full-blown penetration. today, unfortunately, is not that day
> 
> **** standard disclaimer that this is not about the real men, but instead about the character counterparts the actors portrayed in the series. no harm/disrespect intended, etc, etc ****

Babe’s first day of work goes like this: he shows up right on time -- despite the killer hangover -- and almost walks into three walls on his way to his bosses' office because he has yet to actually _have_  his morning coffee. When he finally gets there, he almost throws himself out of his bosses' fourteenth story window.

He doesn’t remember a whole lot from last night, but he couldn’t forget those dark eyes if he tried.

 

\---

 

Babe shouldn’t be on a night out the eve of his first day at a new job.

He says as much to Bill, turning to him in the crowded, smoky bar they’re in. It’s the shady one off of eleventh Nixon’s owned for years, and it’s one they frequent often, mainly because Nixon is sucker enough to give them free and discounted drinks. (“I don’t actually do this for the money, y’know,” Nix says, with a wry grin, after Babe points out for the hundredth time how much money he’s losing by constantly giving away free product.

“Uh huh,” Babe agrees, because everyone knows he’s loaded. “I’m just sayin’, you’re losin’ a shit-ton, man.”

Nix rolls his eyes and slaps another bottle of beer in front of him. “Less whining, more drinking. This is an honest establishment.”

Babe laughs so hard he almost chokes on his shot.)

Bill just rolls his eyes at him, hard enough to look like it hurts, and shoves another shot of whiskey into his hand. Babe’s never been one to waste alcohol, so he sucks it all down in one go.

“We’re already here,” Bill points out. Bill has the irritating tendency to be the voice of reason. “Just have a couple drinks. Then get a cab home.”

Babe grumbles, because he had his entire night planned and it was going to be _awesome_. He was going to order in Chinese food and catch up on House of Cards, and probably kick back a few beers to wash down the takeout. Babe hadn't planned for it to go like this, not at all. Bill had fought his way through his front door, stood in front of Babe’s TV like an bastard, and said, “We’re going out, asshole.”

“Fine,” Babe eventually says, because he knows Bill won’t leave him alone until he does. “But, I’m leavin’ as soon as I get that last drink. I can’t afford to fuck this one up, Bill.”

“Won’t let you fuck it up, Babe,” Bill assures him, and he sounds honest, honest like he always does, so he stays.

Babe shouldn’t have stayed.

 

\---

 

Babe is on his fourth drink when he spots him at the bar.

The guy is sitting on one of the bar stools, back hunched in on itself, his pale, long neck curled over the counter. Babe can’t make out much from this far away, probably couldn’t even up close because of all of the alcohol roaring through his system, but his profile is nice; a strong jaw that’s colored by unshaven five o’clock shadow, a cute nose that juts out just so, and black, almost blue hair, coarse enough for Babe to notice even now.

Babe doesn’t know why he goes over there. He’s not one to pick up men in bars -- or anywhere, really -- but once he’s stared at the guy successfully for fifteen minutes without getting jumped, he figures it can’t hurt if he goes over there. The worst the guy can say is no, and then Babe can get the hell out of dodge and go home to pass out.

It’s a win-win situation. What he doesn’t expect when he gets over there is for various documents and what looks like to be important client information spread out all in front of him. Babe makes a perplexed face at the mess, but sits down next to him anyway.

The man doesn’t even look up.

Babe must still have a weird look on his face, because the bartender laughs at him. “He’s always like this,” she confides.

She has a sweet smile, an even sweeter voice with a French accent, and her name tag reads Renee.

“He always has documents spread out in front of him?” Babe asks.

She grins, conspiratorially, and leans in close. “Don’t let his body language confuse you. He’s not as intimidating as he wants you to think he is.”

Babe laughs. He likes her immediately. “In that case, I’ll buy him whatever he just finished.”

Renee smiles even wider. “And for you?”

“Surprise me,” Babe says.

He tries not to spend the few minutes that she’s gone staring at the man, but he’s severely unsuccessful. Up close he can see the barely there freckles that dot the other man’s face, the way his eyelashes flutter over his cheeks. Babe can’t tell what color his eyes are, not with the way his eyes stay glued to the paper, but the slight smile on his face like he knows that Babe’s staring and doesn’t care, is even better.

Babe isn’t proud to admit that he doesn’t take his eyes off of the other man until Renee forcefully puts down a drink in front of him.

He flushes immediately, and hides his face in his glass. The man looks up with she sets something in front of him, a slight, confused frown on his face. “I ain’t order nothin’,” he says, and his voice is deeper than Babe expects, cutting him right to his core.

Renee scowls at him. “Don’t be rude, Gene,” she hisses, and gestures towards Babe. So, maybe the guy -- Gene; his name is _Gene_ \-- didn’t notice him like he expected. Huh. “He bought it for you.”

Gene (finally) turns to Babe, and he wishes immediately that he didn’t. Gene’s eyes are even more devastating than Babe was imagining, a deep, rich blue that is so dark it’s almost on par with his hair. His mouth is curled into a smile, though it’s small.

“I ain’t order anythin’,’ He repeats, but his smile only grows. “Thank you.”

Babe smiles. “My treat,” he says, and then bites on his lip. “Didn’t mean to bother you. Just looks like hard work you’re doin’ there, figured I could take some of the edge off with a drink.”

Gene shakes his head, eyes bright under the dim lights of the bar. Babe wonders how they look under the sun, and hates himself for it. It’s not like he’ll ever find out. He doesn’t know why he cares. “It’s tedious, but it ain’t hard.”

“I’m Babe,” Babe introduces, and holds out a hand.

The other man accepts it immediately, and he tries not to revel in the way his warm, skinny fingers wrap around Babe’s own. That is so not what he needs to focus on right now.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Gene says. “I’m Gene.”

“I know,” Babe says, and Gene slants him a curious look. “Uh. ‘Cause Renee just said it like, three seconds ago.”

“Uh huh,” Gene says, but his smile is wider this time, more open, and it calms Babe’s nerves. “You do this often? Hit on busy men in bars?”

Babe turns into a fire hydrant. “Never?”

“That a question?”

“Gene, leave the poor kid alone,” Renee chides him, and refills Babe’s glass without asking. He hadn’t even realized he’d burned through it until she did.

“I ain’t doin’ no harm,” Gene says, but he does turn back to his papers. He stares at them for a few seconds, before he makes a sound underneath his breath, one that sounds a lot like ‘fuck it’ and shoves it all haphazardly into a briefcase Babe just notices.

The other man drains his glass in one go, the long line of his throat stealing all the air out of the room as Babe watches his adam’s apple -- and shit, it should not be this damn _attractive_. Babe does the same with his glass, more to calm the nervous fluttering in his stomach than anything, and tries not to randomly combust right there.

“So--” Babe says at the same time as Gene asks, “You wanna get outt’a here or what?”

Babe fumbles, knocking his glass over. He thanks whoever is listening that he’s already drank all of it before he coughs, and says, “Wait. Really?”

Gene looks like he really wants to laugh, but much to Babe’s relief, he’s able to hold it in. “My apartment’s just up the street,” he says, instead of answering, and stands from up from the bar.

Babe nods, still in a little bit of a daze. “Yeah.” He says, weakly. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

\---

 

It’s only when they’re walking out of the bar that he realizes Gene settled his tab.

It’s _also_ when they’re walking out of the bar that he remembers he needs to alert Bill that he wasn’t murdered in an alley, and miraculously, it’s not necessary to wait up for him.

 **To: Bill** [ _11:23:42 PM_ ]  
hey dont wait up 4 me.

 **From: Bill** [11:24:00 PM]  
Saw u leave the bar. dont do anything i wouldn’t do

 _ **From: Bill** [_ 11:24:40 PM]  
USE PROTECTION!!!!

Babe blushes so bright he’s sure Gene can spot it, even with how dark it is outside. He shoves his phone in his pocket, and looks up at the other man, who is already watching him, with a hunger in his eyes that makes Babe go half-hard in his pants.

Gene doesn’t say anything, just watches him the whole way there with that same damn look in his eyes, and Babe isn’t going to survive this experience if he keeps doing that.

“You need to _stop_ doin’ that,” Babe grumbles.

His apartment building is nicer than Babe’s own, but still shit enough that it doesn’t need a doorman. Gene holds open the door for him, so Babe hustles inside. It’s still cold enough outside that the Philly air bites at Babe’s heels like a restless dog, and he unwraps his scarf as soon as he’s inside.

“What floor are you on?” Babe asks, in a tone that definitely doesn’t say ‘I’m weighing the merits of elevator sex.’

Gene seems to read it anyway, because his eyes darken. Babe really isn’t going to fucking survive this.

“I’m on the eighth floor,” he says, and loops his hand around Babe’s wrist to lead him to the elevator.

Babe is bustling at the seams with excitement, unable to keep still as they wait for the elevator, rolling from the balls of his feet to his heels. It’s not like he’s a _virgin_ or anything, but it has been a long while, and he’s never managed to hook a guy as attractive as Gene. He’s even hotter underneath the fluorescent lights of his apartment lobby, and the suit that he’s wearing highlights his long, lithe body.

Gene smirks at him like he knows exactly what asset he’s looking at, and leads him right into the elevator when the doors open.

Babe stares at the side of Gene’s face from the moment they get in there, and tries to gauge on who’s going to make the first move. Babe is still vibrating with nerves, but Gene’s expression is soft and open, so he presses forward before he can lose his nerve and cups the other man’s face.

“This alright?”

Gene’s eyes light up in amusement. “S’okay,” he confirms.

Babe searches his eyes for a few more seconds, but when he only finds amusement and plain, bare want, he leans the couple extra inches and kisses the corner of Gene’s mouth. His lips are even softer than his hands that reach over to grip at Babe’s biceps. He can’t help the smile at that, can’t help the way he pulls away just to lean back in again, this time with more intent.

He tilts his head at the right angle so they don’t bump noses uncomfortably. It’s not a perfect kiss by any means, Babe’s teeth catch on Gene’s own when he tries to change angles again, and his palms are starting to sweat where he’s looped them around his neck, but Gene’s mouth is warm and inviting on his own, so it’s easy to forget about all of that.

The elevator has had to have stopped by now, and Babe really should care about all of the poor children they’re probably scaring for life right now, but he can’t bring himself to really worry about it, especially not when he takes a chance and licks into Gene’s mouth.

Gene tastes like whiskey and the bite of peppermint mints, settling pleasantly on his tongue. Babe thinks it might be his favorite taste. Gene tries to pull away, probably to finally let them into his apartment so Babe doesn’t do something stupid like just have sex in the elevator anyway, and he bites on Gene’s bottom lip as he goes.

“C’mon,” Gene says, eyes flaring in interest. It makes Babe’s stomach drop out. “I don’t wann’a fuck you against no elevator wall.”

His brain short circuits completely. When he comes to, again, they’re in front of Gene’s door, and he’s unlocking it. “Just so you know,” Babe informs, hissing. “You can’t just say shit like that to me and expect me to retain my functioning.”

Gene flips on the light switch and smiles at him, a small, pleased smile that cuts through him like glass. God, Babe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anyone more. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh,” Babe says, unable to control his mouth, or his limbs, or anything about him, really. Gene takes the opportunity for what it is, and pushes him gently back against the door as soon as he shuts it. “Think you should apologize to me. S’not very nice.”

Gene leans in real close. “I think that can be arranged,” he whispers, and kisses him again.

This kiss isn’t like the kiss in the elevator. It’s full of heat, and promise, and Babe immediately opens his legs so Gene can slide one of his own in between his thighs. Gene’s tongue is hot and wet against his own, and Babe swears, he swears he’s never been kissed like this before in his life. Gene is good at kissing like he’s good at breathing, something that it seems like he doesn’t even have to try at. Babe is jealous because he’s good at kissing from a shitload of practice, a lot of tears, and too many instances of braces catching on other braces.

“Shit,” he breathes into Gene’s mouth, which should probably be disgusting, but Gene’s grip tightens on his hips, so he figures it’s alright.

Babe slams his head back against the door, and Gene swallows his whine with his mouth before reaching a hand back and cradling his head. “Idiot,” he says against the corner of Babe’s mouth, but his lips are smiling, and it sends a whole new curl of heat racing towards his dick.

“ _Gene_ ,” Babe says, and can’t help the way his hips thrust into Gene’s leg.

Gene grunts against his lips -- and that really, seriously, should not be hot; this man is <ruining</i> him -- and then starts a line of open-mouthed, love-bite kisses from his jawline to the base of his throat.

Babe hitches his hips downward again, and melts back against the door. The doorknob is digging painfully into his back, but it's hard to care with Gene's tongue doing seriously questionable things to his neck. He's definitely hard in his pants now, and he knows Gene can feel it, especially when he gasps.

"Should move this in the bedroom," Babe whispers. "Wanna explore you in a bed."

Gene bites down in the tendon, at that, his hips pistoning up to meet Babe's. "Okay," Gene agrees. "Okay."

They don't separate until they need to undress each other, and even then there's barely a breathable space between them, still.

 

\---

They’re a mess of limbs on the bed, come streaked across Gene’s chest and stomach, a small droplet on his jawline, his breathing gone slow and steady. Babe doesn’t quite know what to do, here.

He’s not a man of many one night stands, and when they do happen, Babe is sure to bring them home so he has the upperhand. He’s out of his element, here, doesn’t know if he should lounge back or go try and find a paper towel to wipe them down before he leaves. The hesitancy must show on his face, because Gene makes a disagreeable noise and wraps both arms around his waist to pull Babe back down to the bed.

“Thinkin’ too much,” he drawls in his ear.

Babe snorts, but settles back against Gene, though he keeps his body tense. He really should leave, soon. He can’t afford to be late to his new job on the first day. He’s about to tell Gene as much, because he seems like a reasonable guy, when the other man pulls him even closer, his lips tracing the hell of Babe’s ear, and says, “Stay.”

Babe’s chest warms straight through. He turns over so he can look at Gene’s face, and almost wishes he hadn’t. His face is calm, open, and unmistakably happy. Babe wouldn’t be able leave even if he wanted to.

“Yeah?”

Gene nods. “Stay,” he repeats, and Babe settles into him in margins, his arms wrapping around the other man’s middle, his legs tangling in back with Gene’s own.

 

\---

 

The first time Babe wakes up, his head is still foggy from the drinks.

He's burning up, sweating through his shirt, and it's only as he goes to pull it off that he realizes there's something holding him down. Babe turns over, sees Gene's open, vulnerable face, and can't help but smile.

He doesn't feel quite so overwhelmed as before.

 

\---

 

The second time Babe wakes up, he's horrifying more hungover, and the bed is empty.

He almost thinks he hallucinated it all before his eyes adjust to the light and he finds he's not in his bedroom. The other side of the bed is cold, which means Gene left hours ago, and a icy rock drops at the bottom of Babe's stomach. He doesn't want to even begin to analyze what that's supposed to mean.

There's a note on the pillow. Babe reaches over for it with shaky hands.

_Sorry about the leavin. I had to go to work._

_Help yourself to whatever's in the cabinets and don't rob me. I'm not insured._

_Thanks,_

_Gene_

There's a number scribbled at the bottom, text wobbly and unsure, like Gene didn't know if he wanted to include it.

Babe's heart skips a beat.

 

\---

 

Babe eventually tears himself out of bed to get ready for work.

He figures that since they've already shared bodily fluids once, Gene won't mind if Babe uses his shower, so he does, and it takes every bit of his strength not to jerk off underneath the sheets of hot water just so he could use it for later material.

He grabs a cup from the lukewarm pot of coffee Gene left out for him, and swallows it all in one go. He'll have to remember to take some aspirin when Babe can find some.

Babe still has some time, so he figures he can go back to his car where he left it at the bar, go home and change, and make it across town to the office with time to spare.

(He really hopes so, at least.)

 

\---

  
  


It's Babe's first day on the job and he can't believe he isn't late.

He whoops in victory in his car where no one can spot him -- he doesn't need to go down as the Whooping New Guy -- and grabs the thermos of coffee he had just enough time to make. He has a meeting with the big guy boss to officially welcome him to the company, and then he has a few hours of mandatory training.

As far as first days go, it should be pretty textbook.

Babe shouldn't have expected it to be so easy.

 

\---

 

The first thing that Babe thinks when he walks into his new boss' office is that it's fucking massive. The second thing that he thinks is that he is so, so very screwed.

Babe walks out of the room only to walk back in to make sure he isn’t just seeing things. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened. But, Gene is still blinking owlishly at him from behind the desk, frozen in place. His fingers are clenching and unclenching on the corner of his desk, his eyes moving rapidly between the door and Babe, like he doesn’t quite believe this is all real.

Babe doesn’t blame him. He’s not so convinced either.

“Did you follow me from work?” Gene asks, though he doesn’t sound very hopeful. The vivid and painful sinking feeling of stone-cold dread starts to settle in his abdomen. Babe is so getting fired today. _Shit._

"No," Babe says, voice shaky. "I'm the new hire."

Gene doesn't look pleased. "Your name is Babe."

"It is," Babe agrees, "But, my name is also Edward. Legally."

"Shit."

It’s quiet for a long time. Babe stares at Gene, and Gene stares back, and Babe can’t believe this is actually happening to him. He almost expects a portal to another world to open up right in front of him, because he’d have an easier time dealing with that than this.

He was actually going to call Gene, later, too.

When the silence stretches on for too long, Babe can’t handle it anymore. He bites down on his lip, hard, from the nerves. “I didn’t know. At all. At the bar. Or after. Any of it. I didn’t know. Gene, I swear.”

Gene's eyes soften at that. "I know," he assures Babe, his mouth a sad, straight line.

"Shit," Babe whispers, with feeling. "I'm losing my job today. Shit."

He’s working through the semantics in his head already. Babe can probably get a part-time job at the coffee shop downtown if he begs Barton enough. He’ll have to live on ramen noodles for the next few months, and he’ll need a cut in his portion of the rent, but he could do it, he thinks. It’ll suck and Babe will become celibate so he’ll never have a colossal fuck up like this again, but Babe’s survived worse. He’s sure he’ll survive this.

Gene just looks confused, now. "What."

"You're gonna have to fire me now," Babe explains. "You're gonna fire me." Maybe if he repeats it enough it’ll become easier.

“I ain’t firin’ anybody,” Gene says, crankily.

Babe blinks. “What.”

Gene leans over his desk, and meets his eyes. Gene is a hard person to read, will probably always be a hard person to read if you don’t look where it counts. His eyes are emotive, expressive, and this time the only thing that Babe sees there is a strong-willed, blind determination.

“You’re not gettin’ fired today,” He says, gently. “Certainly not by me.”

Babe feels like he can finally breathe again. “What about last night?”

Gene’s face goes complicated. “I don’t wann’a forget ‘bout last night.”

“But,” Babe finishes for him. “Company policies.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to cut someone off like that?” Gene scolds, and Babe feels rightly wronged. He reaches over to grab Babe’s hands in his own, his thumb smoothing soothing patterns into the skin of Babe’s palm. “I’m only the boss for a few more weeks.”

“Uh. What?” This was so not covered in his pre-employment interviews.

“Part of the reason I was at that bar last night. I was goin’ over employee information to give to the new head.” Gene explains. “Not really the business type.”

Babe raises an eyebrow. “Then, why are you here?”

“Family,” is all he says. “Startin’ medical school next month.”

“Medical school,” Babe repeats, still stuck in a daze.

“Medical school,” Gene confirms.

“Okay,” Babe says, because he’s sure he’s going to wake up soon and realize that this isn’t even real.

“Three weeks, Edward.”

“Three weeks?”

“Three weeks, and I’m gonn’a kiss you again.”

Oh. _Oh_.

 

\---

 

Babe is at the copy machine when it happens.

Well, Babe is always at the copy machine, but that’s neither here nor there. He’s printing off some pages for a guy on the twentieth floor, when suddenly there’s a knocking at the door. There’s only one person in the entire building who would _knock_ at the door to the copy room.

“Gene,” Babe greets, warmly, without having turned around.

“Edward,” Gene says, and Babe wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to Gene’s aversion to using his nickname, no matter how nice his voice curls around his name.

Babe finally turns around then, and can’t help but smile like a dope. Gene is leaning against the doorframe, suit jacket slung over one of his arms, the first buttons to his shirt undone. His tie has also seemingly gotten off to somewhere, but Babe can’t focus on any of that, not when Gene’s eyes are steadily darkening.

All of the air seems to go out of the room.

“Are we gonna have copyroom sex?” Babe asks, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Fuck, this is the start of like, three of his major Sex-in-the-Office type of fantasies.

“It’s been three weeks,” is what Gene says, like that answers anything.

Babe doesn’t let it deter him. He is nothing if not a stubborn man. “‘Cause I stashed some lube and a condom in here last week. Figured it might come in handy.”

Gene melts against the doorframe. “ _Dammit_ , Edward,” he hisses, and moves into the room.

“I’m taking this as a yes,” Babe grins, and lets Gene crowd him up against one of the tables. There’s important memos and papers spread out along the surface, but Babe pushes them all aside and figures he’ll get around to it later. After all, they’re getting a new boss. Things are bound to be a little out of control for a while. Or, at least, this is what he tells himself.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” Babe says, to the room at large, and then squarely kisses Gene on the mouth.

 

\---

 

They do have sex in the copy room. Twice.

By the looks Luz and Liebgott level at him when they finally exit the room, everyone knows exactly what they got up to in there.

It’s cemented when Luz leans over to Toye, and loudly asks, “Does this mean he’s finally gonna stop his damn mopin’? ‘Cause let me tell you, buddy, that was getting unbearable to deal with.”

Babe flushes so hard he blends in with his hair.

 

\---

 

(It’s all worth it, though, for the way Gene’s hand settles in his, for the way Gene leads him back to his apartment like that very first time, only Babe has never had something felt more like a damn promise.)

**Author's Note:**

> * i've written gene more playful than i usually write him, so i'm a little nervous. i hope he doesn't read as ooc, but gene seemed like a pretty playful fellow, when he wasn't literally breaking down in bastogne.  
> * i hope u noticed the marvel easter egg  
> * my only office experience happens to be from a call center i used to work at, and from various movies i've seen. i hope it reads at least somewhat believable  
> * this work, as always, is self-beta'd. all mistakes are my own, feel free to point out any grammatical errors, etc
> 
>  
> 
> *** i'm taking prompts and commissions over at my tumblr (@dustyjumpwings.co.vu) so please feel free to send any of those requests over, or if you just want to shoot the shit and flail about these nerd boys ****


End file.
